


Time To Dance

by hollowbirds (torturousthings)



Series: Written About You [7]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, M/M, Ryden, Time to dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torturousthings/pseuds/hollowbirds
Summary: !! THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO THERE'S A GOOD REASON... !!





	

**Author's Note:**

> !! THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO THERE'S A GOOD REASON... !!

“So,” Ryan inquired, “What was that all about?” Brendon chuckled and glanced in Margaret’s direction. She was now kneeling in the other woman’s arms —Ryan still didn’t know her name— and her red dress contrasted violently with the white marble floor, like a pool of blood around her. Given the way her shoulders were shaking, Ryan guessed that she was still sobbing, though he couldn’t hear anything over the drone of the small talk everyone was forcing themselves to participate in.  

 

“It’s just an act,” the other man said, shrugging. “We figured all of this was too boring, so why not spice it up?” Ryan was not completely convinced: her reaction was too violent and her tears too real for it to be a performance. He didn’t tell Brendon that, though, simply looked at him and his now half-empty champagne glass. He had a handsome face, full lips and dark hair combed back. Ryan wondered what he looked like without any gel and in casual clothes. Even more good-looking, Ryan suspected. Maybe this was why Margaret had reacted the way she did. Maybe he had broken her heart and showed up to this party he hadn’t been invited to just to taunt her. 

 

Brendon finished his champagne in one go, and, handing the empty glass to Ryan, told him he’d be right back. 

 

He marched towards the spot where Margaret still knelt on the floor and, leaning down, put her face between his hands and kissed her, right there, in front of the few hundred people that had witnessed the earlier argument. His lips moved on hers like they knew each other that way, like they’d done this before. 

 

To Ryan’s surprise, he felt a jolt of something that can only be described as horror. Why was he kissing her? Was this part of the act too? 

 

She had gone slack in his arms, dark, messy hair tumbling down her back. The older woman looked horrified as well, staring at Brendon with her eyes wide, irises like shards of ice. 

 

Pulling back, Brendon whispered something to Margaret’s ear before leaving her there, on the floor, looking even more powerless than she did before, if that was even possible. 

 

Walking back to Ryan, he recovered his glass and pointed towards a door that led to a balcony. Ryan, confused and full of questions, followed him into the chilly night air. 

 

“I’m sorry about that,” Brendon stated, smirking, not sounding apologetic at all. It was the second time he said that since they’d met, and neither of those times he seemed like he meant it. Ryan blinked and Brendon came back into focus. 

 

“It’s— uh— fine,” Ryan muttered, looking down at his shoes, picturing Brendon’s arms around the girl. He lifted his head to look at Brendon. There was less light here, and the shadows on Brendon’s face made him look slightly less boyish, Ryan realised. He couldn’t be more than twenty-three. 

 

“Do you just kiss everyone like that?” Ryan questioned, trying to sound as casual as possible, keeping his voice as even as he could. Brendon’s lips stretched into a mischievous smile, and he set his glass down on the balcony’s balustrade. 

 

“Why, do you want to find out?” His voice was low, and Ryan could feel his cheeks burn. Stupid, stupid question. Thank God there wasn’t too much light. 

 

“I—“

 

“I’ll tell you a secret, Ryan,” he breathed, leaning dangerously close. He smelled of firewood and alcohol. 

 

“It’s only for the special ones,” he said, and their lips crashed together, Brendon’s mouth demanding on his, as if he hadn’t kissed someone in too long. Ryan closed his eyes, and felt Brendon pin him against the balcony’s railing, his hand on Ryan’s jaw. 

 

When Brendon pulled back, there was something else in his eyes, something that looked strangely like he was realising that something didn't go the way he’d planned. 

 

“I have to go,” he uttered, the composed and confident man from minutes before having suddenly disappeared. He vanished through the glass doors leading to the inside of the ballroom, leaving Ryan dazed and confused in the cold December night. 

 


End file.
